It was dusk, and a light rain was falling on the Aisong Racetrack. Yorozuya Eiyuu stood in the middle of the muddy track, her silver hair plastered to her cheeks, water dripping from her chin. She was soaked. But the trophy she held reflected the last rays of the setting sun, a small, stubborn point of light.
The rivals she had just defeated were a miserable sight. Vincennes Eishin Flash, Gold Ship, and Mejiro McQueen were all sprawled in the mud, covered from head to toe in dirt, their fancy clothes ruined. Eiyuu took a step, then another, the mud squelching under her feet. The sound was surprisingly loud in the quiet aftermath of the race.
McQueen stirred, her body instinctively recoiling. Gold Ship gritted her teeth, trying to push herself up, but her arms gave out. Eishin Flash just lay there, her eyes a mixture of unwillingness to admit defeat and pure exhaustion. Her calm, violet eyes had no trace of joy or pride, just a placid stillness that was somehow more terrifying.
Eiyuu looked down at the three of them, then at the shadow she cast over them.
"Don't you laugh, you monster!" Eishin Flash finally managed to spit out, her voice a mixture of anger and shame.
Eiyuu didn't say anything. She just reached out a hand.
"Get up," she said, her voice quiet but clear in the falling rain.
Eishin Flash froze.
Eiyuu looked at the three of them, her gaze unblinking. Her hand, still outstretched, did not waver. "What's wrong? Do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"This isn't about some martial arts drama," she continued, her voice flat. "Your fighting techniques... are not my opponent."
The three of them stared at her, stunned.
"Your 'product' has some conceptual flaws. The fixed target is holding you back." She didn't wait for them to respond. She turned her head and looked towards the stands. "Your trainers... are in the stands."
Eiyuu's voice was as calm as ever. "The one you should be competing with is them, not me. Take your anger out on your own trainers."
She looked back at them, and for the first time, a flicker of something like human warmth appeared in her eyes. "This isn't a race for victory," she said softly. "This is a play you are putting on for your trainers. A muddy, unwatchable apology."
The words hung in the air, heavier than the rain.
Doubt, confusion, and then a dawning realization spread across their faces. They subconsciously followed her gaze and looked up at the stands. They saw their own trainers, their faces pale, their shoulders slumped, their hands clasped so tightly their knuckles were white.
It was true. All of it. Their trainers had poured their hearts and souls into them, and they had repaid them with this... childish infighting. Eishin Flash couldn't even bring herself to speak.
Gold Ship and McQueen lowered their heads, the rain mixing with something else on their cheeks.
Eishin Flash took Eiyuu's outstretched hand. Mejiro McQueen and Gold Ship followed suit.
She pulled, and the two of them were hauled out of the mud.
Eiyuu didn't look at them again. She saw her other partner, the one still leaning against the railing in the distance, and she walked towards his lonely figure. The three of them stood there in the rain, watching her go.
The trainer didn't come to meet her. They just stood there, facing each other across the muddy track.
"Sorry," Eishin Flash said, her voice low. "Seems we were wrong." She gave a wry, self-deprecating smile. "To think a big sister like you... could be so cunning."
This compliment... was actually a heartfelt one.
Just then, Sakikawa's mind, which had been as calm as a frozen lake, was suddenly shattered by a piercing alarm from the system.
[Alert: Detected high-intensity spiritual resonance in the host. There is a possibility of irreversible mental contamination.]
[Recommendation: Immediate spiritual purification processing.]
Sakikawa's face, which had been pale from the cold, instantly turned ashen. He looked at the frantic, happy little figures in the distance, and for the first time, he felt a genuine sense of fear.
He looked up, his gaze falling on the approaching Eiyuu. He could see that she was exhausted, but her face was full of a joy that he had never seen before. Her violet eyes were so clear, so pure.
But to Sakikawa, it was terrifying. He saw something else in their depths. A small, dark... icy coldness. It wasn't hers. It was a side effect of the system.
The residual poison left over from the serum and the training. It was a fundamental, non-negotiable pain and resentment. The cost of winning this impossible race was probably much higher than he had imagined.
Eiyuu finally reached him, a brilliant smile on her face. "Trainer," she said, her voice full of pride. "I won."
"Yeah," Sakikawa croaked, his throat suddenly dry. He forced himself to look away from her eyes and stared at the system screen.
A single red option glowed on the panel.
[Spiritual Purification]
He pressed it.
The next second, a new prompt popped up.
[To activate the next stage, the host must win two local heavyweight G1 races (equivalent to the Twinkle Series OP class).]
His deadpan face, which had been a mask of calm, finally turned black enough to drip ink.
"Fuck," he whispered, a wave of utter helplessness washing over him.
-------
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